


A Belated Reunion

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Rome, Community: summerpornathon, Crying, M/M, Reunions, Summer Pornathon 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>When Merlin finishes dressing his wounds, Arthur gives him a long, serious look and says in a sad voice, "Do you not remember me, Merlin?"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Belated Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer Pornathon 2015: Challenge #3 - Tropesmash. Tropes used - antiquity, break up/make up, crying. 
> 
> Also written for the 'historical' square on my Merlin Writers Tropes Bingo Card.

"The general from Rome has arrived." 

Merlin looks up from his writing desk to see one of the soldiers standing in the doorway to his room. "Has he sent for me? I can't imagine the physician is the first person he wants to see in an army camp."

"There was a raid on the way to camp. Quite a few deaths, more injuries, and the general--"

"Tell them I'm coming. Wait--Elyan! Who did they send?" 

But Elyan is already gone, off as soon as Merlin said he'd go to the general, and Merlin can't help the sound of frustration that escapes. Three weeks of rain, at least two raids, and a collapsed bridge over the stream behind the camp, and now _this_. His infirmary's nearly full, supplies are dwindling, and his own assistant was mortally injured in the last raid on the camp. 

If he hadn’t wanted to leave Rome so desperately fifteen years ago, and if some of that desperation still did not cling to his heart, Merlin would be ready to leave this last raw edge of the empire behind. 

Merlin puts his stylus and tablets aside and tugs on his cloak with resignation. The infirmary isn't far, but the rain insists on falling.

\- 

"You're lucky. You've quite a few bruises and lacerations, but none of them serious." Merlin wills his hands to stay still and steady as he smoothes the bandages over the general's chest. 

Arthur nods. He'd commanded Merlin to see to his men first, though he'd been weak from blood loss. When Merlin finishes dressing his wounds, Arthur gives him a long, serious look and says in a sad voice, "Do you not remember me, Merlin?"

The thing that Merlin has held taut inside for the past few hours--god, for the past fifteen years--suddenly trembles. Merlin clasps his hands behind his back to stop them from shaking. "I do. But we were just boys, then. You should get some rest." 

He tells his new assistant to give the general wine and food--bread, cheese, and wine--and leaves before anyone else can ask him any more questions about his past.

-

A week of more rain, of the autumn chill that creeps between the chinks in the walls of the barracks, passes before Arthur visits Merlin's private room. 

"Can I come in?" 

"You're the commander here," Merlin says, then regrets the words when Arthur hovers on the threshold. "Yes, of course you can."

He's clad only in his tunic and sandals, more than a few of the cuts and bruises he received in the raid still visible. He waits for Merlin to put aside the wax tablets he's writing in, and sits next to him on the bed.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Arthur says, and continues before Merlin can reply, "And that I'd forget your smile, and your voice. I haven't." 

Merlin touches Arthur's wrist, then lets his fingers slide between Arthur's. They'd fought, violently and viciously as the young do, and Merlin finds he cannot bear to let himself remember that. 

"When I left--"

"Don't, please," Arthur murmurs. He looks down at their entwined hands, then slips his from Merlin's to touch Merlin's face. "We were only boys then, as you said. But now--"

"You are unchanged," Merlin says, "in all the ways that matter." He leans into Arthur's touch, and leans forward to press his lips to Arthur's. 

And Arthur is unchanged--he is still recklessly brave and generous, and the years have not taken away the softness that appears in his eyes during quiet moments like this. He exhales shakily, moves away from the kiss, then rests his forehead against Merlin's. 

There's always been something about Arthur, something small and hidden and delicate, that strikes Merlin right in his heart. Arthur keeps his vulnerabilities locked inside, unspoken, but Merlin can still find them. 

He kisses Arthur again, lightly on the lips, then turns to whisper something soft and wordless against his ear, following it with more kisses and a murmured 'I missed you so.'

It's the little ragged sound that Arthur makes, the breath that catches in his chest and that he releases with a choking sob, that unravels all of Merlin's control. Arthur's eyes are a little damp, and his breath is uneven, and Merlin cannot help but touch Arthur's face, the curve of his neck, the warm place where Merlin can feel the flutter of his heartbeat. He brushes the tear from the corner of Arthur's eye with his thumb, kisses his parted lips.

Desire rushes through Merlin, hot and unexpected, and he draws Arthur closer to him. As close as he can, until they are both hard and struggling for breath, stretched out on Merlin's narrow bed. He brings Arthur off first, wanting a new memory to carry with him should they be parted again.


End file.
